


all love ever does

by eversall



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff, M/M, also smut tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 19:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8298446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversall/pseuds/eversall
Summary: “Simon,” Raphael gasps out, and Simon’s dark eyes track his every movement, flicking down to his fingers and dragging back up Raphael’s body slowly, leaving a trail of liquid fire in their wake, “You have to help me, Simon, please – ““Anything.” Simon says quickly, his voice cracking, and Raphael can feel Simon’s arousal, the scent thick as it curls possessively around Raphael, “Anything you need.”.





	

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr prompt fill for [ yamina ](http://poughkeepsies.tumblr.com/), who gave me:
> 
> so how do you feel about alpha/beta/omega dynamics? bc i have this semi-au (as in, it still takes place in the shadowhunters universe but there are a/b/o) in which Raphael is an omega (i livere for bottom Raphael lol) but he's never gone into beat bc he's ace/aro but then he develops both sexual and romantic atteaction to Simon and SBAM here goes his first heat and he's scared and confused af so he obv asks Simon (bc he's an alpha obv) for help and then feels and smut ensue bc i'm a perv lol
> 
> IM TRASH FOR A GOOD A/B/O but i'm also trash because im never entirely sure how to write it, so I hope I did okay for you. :o
> 
> title taken from "begin again" by taylor swift (tbt that era...)
> 
> prompt me on [ tumblr ](http://eversall.tumblr.com/)
> 
> EDIT: when i first posted this it started from Raphael getting his heat, but when i first WROTE it there was a lot more backstory involved. that's been added now!

Simon isn’t a particularly noteworthy alpha. His _sense_ of smell is stronger than most alphas, but his scent itself is pretty mild, compared to the pheromones that Jace is always leaking, all over the place.

“One day some pretty omega is gonna kick your ass for being this obnoxious.” Simon says angrily, holding his sleeve over his nose as Jace smirks, casually leaning against the door, _in Simon’s space_. His nose is being _assaulted_ right now from Jace metaphorically flexing his alpha muscles. It doesn’t smell bad, but it doesn’t smell good, either – it’s just overwhelmingly suffocating.

“Are you two having a pissing contest right _now_? Really? With the Cup out there?” Alec asks flatly, and Simon makes a face. Alec’s scent is sour, like he’s done a poor job of concealing the fact that he’s an omega or a beta – Simon has an idea of which, but can’t be completely sure. Scent blockers don’t work on Simon’s nose, and instead just smell like rotting meat.  Izzy, on the other hand, has such a tight reign over her alpha scent it’s frightening, the way she walks - letting wisps of sweet vanilla trail behind her. She’s a girl that’s learned to use her biology to her advantage, and Simon’s _never_ seen her lose a fight, even _without_ her alpha scent.

It’s actually interesting, the amount of unbonded alphas there are at the Institute in comparison to the amount of people that use scent-blockers. He figures it’s some sort of outdated Shadowhunter philosophy, like, the only good killing machine is an alpha killing machine, which is fucked up on so many levels, he doesn’t even know where to begin. But it explains why Alec always looks like he’s about to either punch someone or run away – out of all the rancid, smell-blocked Shadowhunters that Simon can smell, his is the only one that has a strong, underlying scent of omega. Everyone else has the more neutral beta scent, like Clary’s, or very weak omega scents, indicating that they probably won’t even get heats if they go off their blockers.

Simon _means_ to ask Izzy about all of this, because this is _fascinating_ and Izzy is the smartest person he knows, but it sort of gets lost somewhere in the _kidnapping_ and his whole, oh, becoming a fucking vampire thing. Vampires smell light and fragrant, like expensive cologne – that’s all he has time to really pick up on before he spends a few days walking around like he’s crazy, craving blood and seeing Camille everywhere.

He goes to the DuMort once, intent on finding Camille, because her scent is _irresistible_ , and he’s half delirious with it, so far gone that he doesn’t know if she’s an alpha or a beta or an omega and he doesn’t _care_ , even though his sense of smell is so strong he should be able to immediately tell that’s something _wrong_ with the way every nerve in his body is screaming _Camille –_

“You can’t possibly think I want to save your worthless life again.” A disbelieving voice interrupts, and _oh_ , it’s like being dunked in a bucket of ice, the way Simon’s mind reboots and focuses instead on the raspy voice in front of him, the slight smell of lavender and crisp ocean air elegantly curling through the air between them and twining around Simon’s feet. He startles and looks at Raphael.

“No, I don’t – no?” Simon says, his eyes darting around as he scrubs a hand over the back of his neck. What the _fuck_? Why is he here? Why is he trying to chase down the crazy lady that nearly got him _killed_? Good lord, Clary’s involvement in this demon world has really messed up his priorities too.

There’s a strange, sympathetic light in Raphael’s eyes that stays there when Simon trips and runs away, confused beyond all belief. There’s also something at the edge of his mind, a feeling he can’t quite unlock, but smells strangely like saltwater and sea foam.

Raphael’s redirect doesn’t work long. Simon goes back; then he _comes_ back. From the dead.

Being a vampire is agony. His sense, already so strong for an alpha, have nearly tripled, and the smells that invade and assault his senses leave him feeling raw and disgusting, wrapped up in layer after layer of smells he can’t _control_. He scrabbles uselessly at his throat, the sting of his hunger warring with the stinging in his nose, and he _howls_ with anguish.

“Is this _saving_ me?” he spits out at Clary, who _flinches_ back. She’s _never_ been afraid of him, not even when he presented as an alpha in the middle of Central Park and she was the one that had to calm him down and take him home. Now, the air is permeated with slivers of her fear, trepidation across her face.

“ _Simon_ , Simon – you’re still – I couldn’t live without you, Simon, I just couldn’t.” she gasps out, her throat raw from tears already shed, and he snarls, and Jace is there between them immediately.

“Focus, man.” He says in a low tone, and his pheromones are wrapped securely around Clary as he stares Simon down, alpha to alpha, willing to fight Simon for it if necessary. “C’mon, you’re stronger than this.”

They go to Raphael, and entering the hotel is some kind of dull relief, because all the vampires have lighter scents, more like wearing heavy cologne than anything, and it’s a welcome change from what feels like _drowning_ in the outside world.

“We take care of our own.” Raphael says grandiosely, and Simon rolls his eyes as he forces blood down his throat and tries not to think about the faint curl of desire that’s pulling at him at the smell of salt and lavender, so faint that he shouldn’t have been able to smell it as a human, but he _did_ , and now he’s a vampire, and it’s _stronger_.

Simon doesn’t know if _Raphael’s_ even aware that he’s an omega. The air around him is stale save for that lingering little smell, which indicates that he either hasn’t presented – which is possible, given that he could have become a vampire before presenting – or isn’t interested in it, which is also possible, even more common than Simon had originally thought. Maureen had been ace, and the way she was blank, with no scents, was always a nice reprieve, or _had_ been a nice reprieve, until he figured that she wanted a relationship with him that he wasn’t ready to give.

So Simon begins his undead life. There aren’t many alphas at the hotel, a stark contrast to the multitudes at the Institute. Most vampires are betas or omegas, and when he asks Lily, one of the only three other alphas in the clan, she looks at him sympathetically.

“Most alphas don’t survive the change, and if they do, it’s hard. They don’t last long as vampires when all their senses are heightened. A lot of them…” she trails off, but it’s not hard to guess, not with the way she’s twisting her ring around her pinky finger.

“Commit suicide.” He finishes quietly, and she smiles bitterly.

“I was insanely in love with her.” Lily says, “She was really unhappy, though.  But Simon, it gets better with time. And _practice_.” The last is said pointedly at him, and he grins sheepishly, because _yes_ , he is skipping vamp mojo practice with Raphael, or whatever you want to call it, because Raphael just always ends up yelling at him and sending him away.

“Do you want me to dislocate my shoulder?” Simon yelps later that night as Raphael instructs him to get out of a particularly awful hold. Simon’s face down, Raphael pinned around him, and okay, he’s _trying_ to be respectful of Raphael’s space because the other vamps told him that Raphael was both asexual and aromantic, as well as an alpha, which seems like a _lie_ – then again, no one but Simon has a nose this sensitive - but _fuck_ Raphael always smells so good. His scent is getting _stronger_ , if anything, and that’s disheartening because it means that all the alpha training he’s doing with Lily isn’t working.

“You’re a _vampire_.” Raphael says for the hundredth time, annoyed. “ _Act_ like it.” He presses down harder, his knee digging into the soft flesh of the back of Simon’s denim-clad thigh, and Simon automatically lets his legs fall open.

Simon makes a strangled noise, low in his throat, and Raphael spring off of him like he’s been burned. Simon hastily scrambles up, much less graceful, and crosses his arms defensively as he cuts his unnecessary breathing off and tries to reign in his alpha scent, which is leaking all over the place and _fuck_ , he’s so out of control.

“Take a walk.” Raphael hisses, his eyes strangely vulnerable, and Simon doesn’t even look back as he runs off, eager to do exactly that. His walk leads him straight to Luke, who raises an eyebrow at the sight of him.

“Kid, you got a death wish?” he asks mildly. “Alpha vampire coming to meet a true alpha werewolf?” Luke was an alpha, even before he became a werewolf and fought for the alpha position of his pack, so he’s a twice-born alpha, a _true_ alpha, more powerful than Simon, Izzy, or even Jace could ever hope to be. Also a lot more _patient_ than all three of them combined, so yeah, maybe it’s a good thing that _Luke_ is the strong one.

“I have several death wishes, actually, but, ya know. Grim Reaper isn’t taking them.” Simon says, sighing, and Luke grins, fist-bumping him.

“The jokes just don’t stop with this one.” Luke says, grinning widely as he leads Simon over to a table, and Simon crows with delight when he sees a plate of fried rice waiting for him, sprinkled liberally enough with blood that he can probably eat it like it’s _actual_ fried rice.

“Thank you.” Simon sing songs to Alaric, who nods at him, sweeping his eyes over Simon’s form critically.

“Are they feeding you properly?” the deputy asks, and Simon rolls his eyes, stuffing his face.

“Yes _mom_.” He says, and Alaric harrumphs as he goes back into the kitchen. Simon’s beyond grateful for Alaric, who doesn’t treat him any differently despite his undead status. It nearly brings him to tears, the way Luke and Alaric still act like fathers to him, because it means a whole fucking lot, okay? It means a lot to lose a father that young and have someone else – not even from _your_ life, but from your _best friend’s_ life – step in and take that role, knowing that it’s a lifelong commitment, and then decide to _keep it_ , despite the clear enmity between the rest of the werewolf pack and the vampire clan. Luke, Alaric, and Jocelyn made Simon and Rebecca feel like they were _whole_ again, and it just makes the constant ache of missing Dad that much softer and easier to handle.

It’s nice, hanging out with Luke again, and even more so this time because now they’re _both_ super awesome creatures of the night, and Simon gets to play serial killer for Luke’s boss, hell _yeah_. He should probably take the whole scare a little more seriously, but it’s just – nice to relax and just _be_ Simon, the vampire. Clary and the rest of the Shadowhunters expect him to just be a more jacked up version of Simon, and Raphael and the rest of the clan expect him to be a fully dramatic Dracula version of Simon, and there’s somewhere in between where Simon actually _is_. Luke gets that.

“Kid.” Luke says before Simon leaves, clapping him on the back. “You did good. You’re doing good. Whatever’s bothering you, whatever omega’s gotten under your skin – you’ll be able to figure it out.”

“There’s no omega.” Simon says, protesting weakly, but they both know that’s a lie because Simon’s alpha scent has the lightest spray of sea salt to it now, and this is so fucked up, this whole situation. Luke lets it go because he’s great like that, and can see Simon’s own internal struggle.

Because the thing is, it’s one thing to think Raphael’s attractive – anyone with _eyes_ can see that he’s attractive, of course anybody who was attracted to anyone would feel that low pool of desire. But it’s another thing entirely to think it’s charming when Raphael sighs and bites his lip as he reads through a report he doesn’t like, or to be insanely proud when he attends meetings with other clans and sees Raphael, young for a vampire, hold his ground against ancient, prejudiced idiots, or to nearly cry when he hears Raphael’s fingers dance out a light aria on the piano. The reason Simon is completely fucked is because Raphael likes to watch sitcoms, is ridiculously good at Wii Bowling, reads poetry like there’s no tomorrow, and, _most importantly_ , shares all of it with Simon.

“Simon.” Raphael says, every day, and Simon nearly moans aloud at how perfectly the syllables of his name roll off of Raphael’s tongue, something predatory and dark in it _claiming_ Simon, despite Simon being the alpha.

Raphael’s scent is so strong these days that Simon _knows_ the others can smell it. Lily gives Raphael quizzical looks every time she sees him, and the other alphas give Raphael a wide berth without quite knowing why.  But Simon can’t get enough, can’t stop inhaling unnecessarily, like a fool, until the scent of ocean surrounds him and he’s drowning again, in the best way possible. Simon wants to drag his thumb along Raphael’s neck until he bares his throat, until their scents mingle and mix and their blood is tangled together –

Simon stops himself from going there. Raphael doesn’t want any part of it, it’s unfair of Simon to act like this.

.

Raphael wants it.

He’s never wanted _anything_ before but Simon lights his world on fire and it’s _insane_ , how much the thick scent of _alpha_ overwhelms him. His world tilts and realigns that day, something slow and warm unfurling in his chest as he smells jasmine and honeysuckle, floral and spicy sweet, in every corner he turns to. It leaves him unsettled and unsteady, because he’s _never_ had to experience this, and he can’t ask anyone for help because isn’t that _weak_?

Magnus and Ragnor were the only ones that knew he was an omega, and now Ragnor is _dead_ , and his clan think he’s some sort of closed off alpha, which he’s never bothered to correct, and Simon – Simon is at the center of everything, lounging on Raphael’s sofa and insolently sprawled across Raphael’s things. He’s ungracefully tripping his way into every little crack and crevice of Raphael’s home, his heart, his fucking _soul_.

“This is the one? Yeah? _Yeah_. I rock blue, don’t I?” Simon says, spinning around with his arms out, and now he’s in Raphael’s _clothes_ too, _fuck_. The blue jacket sits pretty across Simon’s trim frame and Raphael crosses his arms so he has something to hold on to before he loses all control and decides to fist his hands in the front of Simon’s shirt and drag his stupidly pink lips down –

_Yeah_. Probably not a good train of thought to go down right now.

“It’s certainly something.” Raphael says noncommittally, and Simon snorts.

“Softie.” He accuses, pointing at Raphael. “You totally think I clean up nice, admit it.” Raphael smirks, because _this_ is easy, _this_ he knows how to handle, and the easy familiarity of it is the only thing that has him waiting this – whatever this is – out patiently and not running for the hills.

“I think my _clothes_ are nice. You, on the other hand…” Raphael trails off, shaking his head as he approaches Simon and folds the collar to the side correctly. “Don’t ruin this one, okay? You have this thing for getting blood on my suits.”

“ _So_ sorry for trying to defend myself from my kidnappers.” Simon says, rolling his eyes as he stands still, but Raphael can smell the _alpha_ rolling off of him in waves, sharp and _beautiful_ , and Raphael has never been more grateful for not needing to breathe. He sucks his lower lip absently as he works a crease out of Simon’s shoulder, and Simon shudders for a second before he collects himself.

Raphael wonders then, on some abstract level, if Simon knows that Raphael is an omega. Simon’s scent is the only one that Raphael can really pick apart – he’s good at filtering things out now, and he’s always had only an average sense of smell. He can’t tell alphas, betas, and omegas apart, not unless someone defends with their scent, or an omega goes into heat. Simon’s the first person he’s ever felt _anything_ for, but does Simon realize this? Or is he just reacting instinctively to an omega, no matter how hidden, in his presence?

“You look regal enough for a Shadowhunter wedding.” Raphael finally says, stepping away from the warmth of Simon and immediately missing it. Simon smiles at him, small and private, his eyes serious as he drags his eyes across Raphael’s face.

“Thanks, Raphael.” He says, and he’s off.  Raphael collapses into a chair and is vaguely horrified to find himself actually _turned on_ by Simon in his suit. 

“I should probably teach you about heats.” Magnus muses over the phone that day, and Raphael snarls and hangs up on him, throwing his phone across the room, before realizing that it’s not a bad idea and going to retrieve it. Magnus promises to teach him, but then Magnus is deep into a bottle of alcohol not ten minutes later, and Raphael stares at his phone in amazement.

“I miss Ragnor!” Magnus shrieks down the line. “Why did I have to have a _trade-off_? Ragnor for _them_?”  Raphael wants to roll his eyes, but he gets it, he really does, because thinking about life before Simon just reminds him of a lifetime of ash and death.

Of course, because it’s just Raphael’s luck, the next thing Raphael knows – Simon betrays him.  Them. He betrays _them_ , but more importantly he looks Raphael in the eye and chooses Clary over him.

“Boss – “ Lily begins when the Shadowhunters leave.

“Leave me _alone_.” He snarls, yanking his arm out of her grip and going to his room, slamming his door. He hears the low murmur of voices starting up in his wake, but he doesn’t care and can’t be bothered to listen in as he sits on the edge of his bed and hold his head in his hands.

Where did he go wrong? What about him isn’t fucking _good_ _enough_? Is it that he’s never had a heat? What is he supposed to do about _that_? He’s never – he used to think that something was wrong with him, that God had decided that not only was Raphael going to be a creature living in eternal damnation, he really was going to be a _creature_ , without human urges. It took Magnus and years of learning to be okay with it, to understand that he was whole and not at all broken the way he was.

He knows that he’s not an awful person. Not really. So why didn’t Simon give him a chance?

A distant corner of his mind, a corner that smells like honeysuckle and cinnamon, knows that all of this probably has to do with Simon seeing Jocelyn as a parental figure, but Raphael is _lost_ in wave after wave of misery, his shoulders shaking as he shudders and gasps, not quite crying but breaking apart all the same. He changes into sleep clothes and crawls into bed, clutching Simon’s T-shirt to his nose and falling into desolate dreams.

.

Raphael feels the first slide of slick drip steadily down his thigh a week after Camille is released, and he freezes in the middle of giving out patrol assignments, heat rushing through his body as his legs go weak.

“Boss?” Drew says slowly, and around him everyone is shifting, their nostrils flaring as they sniff the air for anything wrong, and Raphael clenches his teeth as he fights down the sudden dizziness that overwhelms him.

“Lily will hand out the rest of the assignments.” He grits out, closing his eyes and trying desperately to relax. He’s _never_ had a heat before, and he doesn’t know how fast or how slow it’ll hit him, and he needs to be _prepared_ , fuck –

“I will?” Lily asks, looking bewildered.

“Find Camille.” Raphael says tightly, and then he’s off, running back to his room and slamming his door shut, leaning against it and gulping down unnecessary breaths of cool air as his hands shake, another trail of wetness leaking steadily down his thighs, and he sinks to the ground, his veins running hot and cold.

“Phone,” Raphael mutters to himself, “Magnus.” He sits like that for a while on his haunches, the ache from holding the position distracting him from the growing heat pooling low in his stomach, the way the air around him seems thick, the smells of the hotel overwhelming him as his senses grow sharper.

“Boss.” A voice sounds through the door, and oh, _Lily_. His vampires don’t _know_ he’s an omega, just assumed he was an alpha because he’s never had a heat and, well, he’s known for being kind of stern and commanding.

“I’m fine.” Raphael calls weakly, his shoulders shaking as he wraps his arms around himself.

“Boss, I’m going to get – “ There’s a scuffle on the other end of the door, and then Lily’s voice cuts off and Raphael assumes they’ve left him alone to die in his overheated misery. He stands up slowly and stumbles over to his phone, falling onto his bed with all his clothes still on and curling himself into a ball under the covers. He dials Magnus’ number with shaking hands.

“Hello?” Magnus’ surprised voice echoes over the line.

“I think I’m going into my first heat.” Raphael says through his chattering teeth. He’s so _cold_ now, shivers wracking his body as all the heat seems to _leave_ the room. He’s getting whiplash from the changes coursing through his body.

“ _What_?” Magnus gasps. “I thought those weren’t really, ah, up your alley, so to speak. You don’t, er, play for either team, as it were.”

“Well,” Raphael grits out, “I am playing _now_.”

“Why? How? I – never mind, are you going to be okay? What do you need?”

“I don’t _know_.” Raphael moans lowly, dizzy as he feels his jeans stain from the slow, steady drip of slick. He doesn’t want to _think_ about what it means, that after decades of not being affected by his omega status his body is suddenly _reacting_ , is suddenly _aching_ for an alpha. And not just any alpha, one with bright brown eyes and curly hair and –

_No_. That bridge is burned.

“Hold on, Raphael.” Magnus murmurs. “I’ll be there with help.” In the background, someone says hesitantly, quietly, “You were talking to _Raphael_?” but Raphael is too far gone to care who it is, just hangs up on the call, throws his phone on his nightstand, and pulls the covers tighter around his shoulders, burrowing down and trying to ignore the deep chasm carving its way into his chest as his heat starts in earnest, clamoring for the alpha mate his body _know_ it encountered just a while ago.

.

Raphael awakens with a start, restless and overheated, his sheets _soaked_. He sits up and tosses his jacket aside, nearly tearing his shirt apart in his haste to get all his clothes _off_. Everything is _burning_ around him, his cock is hard and angry, leaking copiously, and he feels so fucking _empty_ , so _bereft_ , and he, he needs –

He keens as he throws his head back and roughly shoves two fingers in to his fluttering hole, the wet noise echoing loudly in his room, and he rocks back and forth, roughly fingering himself. It’s not enough, it’s not even _close_ to enough, and he thought heats were supposed to make you feel _good_ , this feels like _shit_ and he hates it so much, why the _fuck_ –

He realizes abruptly that he’s crying, bloody tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, and he lowers his head, clenching his eyes shut as he grips his cross with one hand and keeps pumping his fingers in and out with the other, the pain of his necklace enough to counteract his sex-crazed mind and ground him a little more. He shudders, taking a deep breath and smelling the thick scent of his own arousal all over the room.

He needs _Simon_. He’s not an idiot, knows that he and Simon were well on their way to falling in love before Simon fucking _betrayed_ him. But betrayal doesn’t change the fact that Raphael loves Simon and that’s his _alpha_ , and his body is responding in the only way it knows how – he’s _never_ wanted someone before – and this his first heat ever, he can’t believe he has to spend it alone.

Raphael adds another finger, thrusting _hard_ and imagining that it’s _Simon_ in him, Simon with his stupid shirts and easy smile, Simon holding him down and looking at him intently, like he’s the _only_ thing in the world, Simon –

“Raphael?”

 - is here, _fuck_ , crap, shit, Raphael stills abruptly as he hears the voice from the other side of his locked door, rough and full of emotion. He can smell the alpha scent now, wrapping around him and smelling like something floral, lilac and jasmine and honeysuckle.

“Raphael.” Simon says again, and Raphael whines, low in his throat. He may have issued a kill order, but he _wants_ Simon, _needs_ him in a way that’s frightening in its enormity, and right now he’s pretty convinced that he’ll _die_ if Simon doesn’t get in him. Raphael’s never gone into heat before and it’s so pathetic, and _lonely_ , and he feels like the ache all over his chest and his lower abdomen might never go away.

“Simon,” Raphael whispers, gripping his cross so tightly he can feel the pain shooting through his arm, “Simon _please_.” He hates the way his voice comes out, low and hoarse, _begging_ , but he can’t help it, Simon is _right_ there and that’s his fucking alpha, _no one_ else but Raphael should be able to beg him like this.

“Raphael.” Simon says, and then Raphael hears the splinter of the lock being broken and then Simon is right _there_ , his eyes red-rimmed like he’s been crying – why? Raphael resolves to ask him later – and Raphael’s never seen anything so beautiful in his life. He knows that he should feel embarrassed, naked and on display like this with three of his fingers still shoved in himself and his thighs spread, slick dripping down over his legs, his cock angry and leaking. He should be _angry_ , angry at Simon for leaving and betraying him and _everything_ –

But right now he just wants _Simon_ , he wants to forget about everything and hold his alpha close, because he’s in _heat_ and it _hurts_ , and fuck, Simon is always gonna be the best thing that ever happened to him. He’s sex-addled and half-delirious, so hard it’s painful, and it’s just –

“ _Simon_ ,” Raphael gasps out, and Simon’s dark eyes track his every movement, flicking down to his fingers and dragging back up Raphael’s body _slowly_ , leaving a trail of liquid fire in their wake, “You have to help me, Simon, please – “

“Anything.” Simon says quickly, his voice cracking, and Raphael can _feel_ Simon’s arousal, the scent thick as it curls possessively around Raphael, “ _Anything_ you need.”

“ _Touch_ me.” Raphael says, and Simon hesitates for a second, a second too long, and Raphael, crazy as he’s become, growls and shoves a fourth finger in, the growl turning into a sharp moan at the slight burn and ease. He’s so wet that even the fourth finger slides in easily, and he _twists,_ searching for that one spot but he can’t _reach_ –

Cool hands circle his wrist and ease his fingers out, leaving him empty and aching, and Simon uses his other hand to pull Raphael’s mouth to his own, kissing him for the first time. Raphael expects him to kiss like an alpha claiming an omega in heat, hard and angry, but Simon kisses like he’s opening something fragile, his lips unbearably gently and questioning as he presses them to Raphael’s again and again, a series of uncertainties that Raphael can’t answer, not right now.

Raphael opens his mouth, fisting his now free hands in the front of Simon’s shirt as he licks into Simon’s mouth, tracing his tongue over the fangs, and Simon makes a low noise in the back of his throat, pulling back to look at Raphael beseechingly.

“Raphael, I – “ he begins, and Raphael shakes his head.

“I’m in heat because of _you_.” He says, hating how his voice shakes. “I _want_ this, I want you to _fuck_ me –“

“I’m not gonna – I’ll make love to you.” Simon says awkwardly, stubborn and dorky to the very end, and _how_ is this the man that Raphael fell in love with? How is this the only alpha he’s ever looked at and ached for a future with?

Simon touches Raphael like he’s something precious, easing him down onto the bed and ignoring his frantic pleas as he strokes his fingers over Raphael’s cock slowly, like he has all the time in the world, and _this_ is why Raphael fell in love with him, because Simon makes mistakes but he also treats Raphael like he’s new and wonderful and altogether _worth_ something.

“You have to – “ Raphael slurs, sex drunk as Simon fingers him slowly, sucking a hickey that won’t last into the inside of Raphael’s thigh – “Alpha, _please_.” Simon pulls back, a frown on his face.

“Don’t call me that.” Simon says, his voice unhappy, and Raphael curls his fingers into Simon’s hair, pulling as he whispers “ _Simon_ ” reverentially and Simon looks up at him, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

“Raphael.” Simon says, and it sounds like a promise this time, sure and steady. “I have you, I have you.”

“You do.” Raphael gasps as Simon noses up Raphael’s body, dragging his tongue over the vein in his neck. “You _do_.”

“Always.” Simon says before he bites gently, and it’s too much, the blood passing from his body through Simon’s lips, the rush of heat from being solidly blanketed by Simon’s body above his, Simon’s slender finger relentlessly fucking into him, and Raphael shouts as he comes hard, scratching his nails down Simon’s back.

.

Raphael wakes up sore and tired, but with the ache in his chest gone, his body satisfied and content with the lingering stretch of Simon’s cock. The sheets, Raphael note absently, have been changed, and the whole room smells pleasantly of Raphael and Simon, some light combination of the ocean and crisp flowers.

He scrubs a hand over his eyes and sits up, looking around, not finding Simon near him. There’s a note on the nightstand, and Raphael picks it up with growing trepidation.

_Raphael,_ it reads _, I’m in love with you_. _I’m sorry_.

Raphael frowns, turning the card over and over in his hands but finding nothing else. Has Simon just _left_? He gets dressed slowly and meticulously, smoothing his suit down as he tries to figure out what he’s going to tell his vampires, and what he’s going to do about _Simon_.

“So.” Lily says, her arms crossed as he walks into his office. “An omega. And you didn’t think to share with the class.” She gestures to the rest of his main council, and they all stare back at him.

“Sorry.” Raphael says, shrugging. “I didn’t think it would ever come up.”

“Right.” Drew says, rolling his eyes. “But now it has.”

“Well?” Kiri says impatiently, clearly itching to say something.

“Well what?” Raphael asks.

“Are you going to get Simon back?” she snaps.

“I put a kill order out on him.”

“I’m not about to kill a vampire who did nothing wrong but try to help his so called ‘family’.” Stan spits out. “They’re playing him.”

“Not to mention I wouldn’t want to kill possibly the _only_ person Raphael likes enough to tolerate as his alpha.” Lily interjects.

“Stan, you have a disturbing amount of anger against the Nephilim, even for a vampire.” Raphael says, alarmed.

“They took Simon.” Stan responds childishly.

“And _you_ have to go get him back!” Kiri yells, and Raphael sighs.

“It’s not that simple.” He says bitterly, staring at the floor, and thinking. _I love you_. _I’m sorry_.

“Like hell it isn’t.” Drew says, and Raphael stares at him. “He _just_ left. For our sake, can you please go get him back? This is bigger than all of us, bigger than just Camille or whatever. This is a fucking war, and we need him as much as he needs us.”

They all stare at him, because as much as Raphael hates to admit it, he’s _right_. This isn’t just about the betrayal. This is about the fact that Valentine is rising, again, and now more than ever Raphael needs to gather his friends and allies. And this – isn’t the time to be making a mess of the only romantic connection he thinks he’ll ever have.

“Okay.” Raphael says, his throat dry, and he’s off before any of them can say anything, speeding out through the night and tracking down Simon’s bright scent. “Simon!” he calls, and he hears a clang and rounds the corner to see Simon startle and back up against a fence.

“Are you going to kill me?” Simon asks warily, and Raphael shakes his head, stepping closer and looking up.

“Why did you do it?” Raphael murmurs.

“You shouldn’t be chasing after me.” Simon mutters, and it’s broken and defeated.

“I do love you.” Raphael says softly, and Simon flinches like he’s been hit.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Simon says, his eyes wide and bright.

“Can we just – “ Raphael starts slowly, and then stops. He brings his fingers up to trace over Simon’s cheekbones. “Can we start over?” he rasps out lowly. “Without – without my heat or your betrayal, or – anything?”

“It means something, right?” Simon asks shakily. “That – that Magnus told _me_ about your heat and you asked – “

“It means everything.” Raphael interjects sharply, and Simon exhales an unnecessary breath. It ghosts over Raphael’s lips, and Raphael leans in even closer as Simon sways toward him, meeting in the middle as they kiss softly. It’s simple, and chaste, and they pull back to look at each other, Simon’s hand coming up to cradle Raphael’s cheek.

“I don’t really – “ Raphael finally says, flushing. “I won’t really want sex, when I’m not in heat.”

“I don’t care.” Simon says immediately. “I’m in love with you.”

“Good.” Raphael says, resting his forehead against Simon’s. “Good.”

“Good.” Simon echoes softly, and there, underneath the stars, they start over.

**Author's Note:**

> _i've been spending the last eight months,_   
>  _thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end_   
>  _but on a wednesday, in a cafe, i watched it begin again_


End file.
